


What's the point in making a deal with the devil?

by rage_quitter



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alien Biology, Banter, Dirty Talk, Everything is consensual, Fingerfucking, Guardian can be a reader insert sort of character they're kept vague on purpose, Knotting (but not in the furry way), M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other, Trans Character, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 02:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rage_quitter/pseuds/rage_quitter
Summary: Gambit gets him going. Really, really gets him going. So does that Guardian. So does the Spider. Sometimes the chips like to fall in his favor, turns out, and Drifter sure ain't complaining about it.





	What's the point in making a deal with the devil?

**Author's Note:**

> for reference: drifter is a trans man who transitioned pre-rez. his transition included a phalloplasty and hysterectomy, but not a colpectomy. many trans men choose not to have a colpectomy for sexual reasons, since a phallophasty doesn't result in a penis as sensitive as that of an amab person's.
> 
> Guardian can be whatever you want them to be! i've written them vague on purpose. 
> 
> Established "relationships" and everything is consensual!
> 
> Recommended but not necessary to read A Spider's Gamble before this one!!

Drifter was giddy with a two-sourced high. Gambit on Kell’s Grave were his favorites. They were always so high-stakes, so tense, wild and chaotic and unpredictable. He would sit on the Derelict, watch with glittering eyes as the Guardians frantically leaped over pits of acid, cackle as they shouted callouts and enraged curses when they jumped back up from a misstep. Sure, missing out on the motes wasn’t ideal, but it was funny.

The other high came after the games. When he went to visit the guy who let him turn the rusty scrapheap into a battle arena. When he, as they both joked, “paid his rent.” Ha, like he wasn’t getting more outta that than the games.

And now it was a thing to be relished. The game went better than ever. That Guardian was there. Clever Guardian, terrifyingly skilled, their motives so mysterious even to Drifter. They were a god-killer, plane-walker, hero. Even Drifter admitted that much--the hell could he have done without his Light? He wasn’t as strong then. Maybe now, if it happened, he’d be fine.

But that wasn’t important.

What was, was how he’d watched them intently, remembering the curves and angles and lean muscles of their body, hidden under armor. How he’d watched them cut through everything in their path, bark callouts and commands to their teammates with that voice they so rarely used but was sweet music to his ears. He’d watched them load a machine gun and pounce through the invasion portal without hesitation. Again and again and again. He’d watched them gun down the other team over and over, and then sprint right back into the fight on their own side. He’d watched that little gun they built together spark off and shatter his Taken into dust. How nice it looked on their hip.

He’d purred into their comms more than once, watched them twitch just a little. Wondered what it might take to break them. Wondered what he could say. How far he could go before the Guardian stormed into his little back alley again, shoved him into his little back room again. Wondered if he could get ‘em on the Derelict, on home turf. Wondered how long it would take for them to tell him their name so he could go hoarse on it.

They’d vanished right after the game.

But Drifter had other plans, anyway. His thoughts had gone from Guardian to something… bigger. His fingers danced with anticipation as he strode through the Tangled Shore, whistling idly, bounce in his step. The thought of four hands on him, rough growls in his ear, rows of needle-sharp teeth on his collar, claws raking down his back and digging into his thighs--

And that was where he was now.

His blood sang, hot and fast in his veins, the air thick with the sweet, biting smell of Ether and the richer cinnamon of his own Light. His throat was already sore, blissfully so, slowly healing itself as other parts of his body were so wonderfully ravaged. His back stung, more marks dug against the scars. The throne creaked with his movements.

“Faster? Harder? C’mon, whatcha want?” he asked, breathless.

“Both,” the Spider growled, knitting a hand into his hair. “You’re so eager today, give me everything you have to offer.”

Drifter braced his hand tighter on Spider’s thigh and thrust into him sharper, grinned at the cut-off sound it earned as he fucked him faster. “Good thing-- good thing I’m-- a generous man,” he said, trying to purr the words.

It was good enough, it seemed, for Spider, who tightened a little around him, his long slick length sandwiched between them twitching against his stomach. “You’re selfish,” Spider hissed.

“I am,” he replied, chuckling and digging his fingers into the spaces between the kingpin’s keratin plates. “So’re you. Give ‘n’ take. Sharing?”

“Shut up, Drifter.”

Drifter rasped a curse as Spider tugged at his hair. His gut felt tight, he wanted more, needed more, and damn it, he was gonna get it, he knew it too. He tasted embers on his tongue and bit at Spider’s throat, let the Light dance from his lips and teeth like they had when he’d gone down on him a few minutes ago, groaned at the shudder it earned him.

It was hot and it was cold and it wasn’t enough. Lightning in his veins with the fire--interesting, wasn’t it just--still riding the adrenaline high, still built up, pent up, even if this pace would be almost painful to a human, he knew Spider wanted more, too, and he was selfish enough to give him everything--

The airlock hissed.

“--oh, fuck, oh my stars-!”

Drifter froze. Spider froze.

Chest heaving, he slowly turned his head.

The Guardian. Stood still, either wide-eyed or their eyes shut tight, Drifter couldn’t tell with their helmet. Deer in the headlights, whatever the hell that expression meant.

He shifted a little, and Spider twitched, digging his claws in a little. “Huh. Well. Ain’t this a party?” he said.

“Really?” Spider growled. “Really, Drifter?”

“Uh,” the Guardian said. “I, uh. I was. Um.”

“Speechless, hero?” Drifter asked, grinning. He glanced back toward Spider and let his grin turn dangerous, toothy. Spider narrowed his eyes when Drifter winked at him, but Drifter felt his length twitching eagerly with interest. “Spider got your tongue?”

“Drifter,” Spider growled.

Drifter chuckled, hungry. He pressed into Spider a little harder before pulling out with a hiss. He was achingly hard, dripping with Spider’s slick. He looked intently at Spider for a second, licked his lips, almost pleading. Spider tightened his jaw and blinked slowly. Victory tasted sweet in his throat, nearly as satisfying as what he’d just swallowed down not three minutes ago.

“Well, Guardian, you lookin’ for somethin’?” Drifter asked, turning fully now, utterly shameless as he draped himself over Spider, felt his claws prick into him.

“Uh,” the Guardian said again. They shifted. Drifter followed the movement. Calculating, nervous, anticipating--he’d seen it similar as they waited for the drop from the Derelict.

“I’m sure whatever it is, one of us has it,” Drifter said with a purr. “And after your little show in Gambit earlier, I’m more than willing to give you anything you want.” He grinned sharp. “And Spider won’t bite, ‘less you ask him to.”

“They know,” Spider said smoothly.

Drifter blinked and looked at him, then back at the Guardian. “They huh?”

Spider chuckled and extended a hand, claw crooking. Slowly, the Guardian walked forward. “This is _my_ Guardian, Drifter, didn’t you know that?” There was something possessive in the tone.

“Oh. Ohhh. I’ll be damned.” He laughed. “You weren’t specific about that aspect of it!”

“A recent development.”

Drifter licked his lips as he raked his eyes over the Guardian. “You seem a little outta your element, Guardian,” he teased.

“Drifter, shut up,” they said, yanking off their helmet. Drifter grinned as they started to detach their armor.

Cool fingers suddenly wrapped around Drifter’s dick and he jumped, back arching. “I thought you only let me talk to you that way,” Spider purred.

“Ah, y’know,” Drifter said, leaning his head back as Spider lazily stroked him. “Hard to… hard t’say no when you see ‘em in their element.”

“I’m not inclined to disagree, but I also think you like being talked down to, don’t you?”

“Nah,” he said, jerking his hips into Spider’s hand and watching the Guardian strip off their undersuit. “I like gettin’ riled up, though.”

“You’re plenty riled,” the Guardian said dryly. “You were riled up the second I transmatted onto the Derelict.”

Drifter laughed, breathy. “What can I say? I’m a man with needs and interests.”

“You’re a horny bastard,” the Guardian scoffed. They looked to Spider with a different expression.

Spider crooked his claw again, and the Guardian eagerly joined Drifter.

“Ohh, ha, is that how it is, then?” Drifter asked.

“Guardian, if you’ll be so kind, shut him up,” Spider said.

The Guardian grinned and raked their fingers roughly into Drifter’s hair. They slotted a knee between his thighs, leaned in close, and kissed him. It was more teeth than lips, but Drifter didn’t mind that one bit. He could taste their Light, sharp and almost painfully bright. He hummed into their mouth, grinning against their unforgiving lips, let his own Light flicker back.

He didn’t know what element to expect. He’d seen them burn Primevals to ash, unleash a storm so furious the arena smelled like ozone when he’d gone to clean up, pull at void so strong he could hear it whisper from the Derelict.

He’d also felt it all crawl through his skin from their talented fingertips. Hell, if he was lucky, he’d get all three dancing over him. In him, through him.

He sure felt like the luckiest man in the universe when the Guardian answered his sound with a little moan of their own. When he opened his eyes, their kiss breaking for breath, Spider had a hand at their thigh, urging them closer. He wasn’t digging in his claws the way he did Drifter. It seemed a strangely tender touch.

Spider squeezed his dick a little and he gasped out, seeking the Guardian’s mouth again. He tried to reach for them, only to find that their hand not knit into his hair was pinning his wrist to Spider’s chest and his other hand was gripped tightly by one of Spider’s.

“Hey--” he started, only to have the Guardian press in harder. He let it happen for a good minute before pulling back, breathing hard. “Not fair, gimme my hands.”

The Guardian grinned, somewhere between sweet and dangerous. They glanced toward Spider, and he felt Spider’s claws take the place of their hand.

Before Drifter could complain, they were kissing him again, deeper now. He felt them moving, and then Spider hissed in pleasure. He didn’t need to see to guess what they were doing. The jerky movements of Spider’s hand on him said enough. The Guardian tugged at his hair, pulling his head back, and went after his throat with their teeth.

He sighed with a lazy grin as they marked up his throat. Just how he liked it, the threat of blood. They kissed and bit and sucked down his throat to his collarbone and claimed that, too. Just like before. But there was something different now. Not quite measured, but… restrained?

No, he realized when he felt Spider shift.

Leashed. Chained.

The Guardian was waiting for Spider.

When they drew back, gasping for breath, eyes wild and wide and dark with arousal and their lips swollen and shiny, Drifter flicked his eyes down.

Just as he thought. He almost chuckled, if he wasn’t so painfully turned on and needy as all hell. They were three fingers into Spider’s slick pore, working into him deep and slow.

“Guardian,” he hissed. “He likes it fast.”

The Guardian scoffed. “Maybe from you,” they said.

He gave them a bewildered look.

He felt, rather than heard, Spider laugh. His claws shifted from the Guardian’s thigh up to scrape the nape of their neck. “Guardian,” he purred.

The Guardian licked their lips, looking eager. They drew their fingers from Spider and pushed themself to their knees. They smiled smug at Drifter as they let their other hand slide from his hair to plant square on his chest.

Drifter’s breath stuttered when the Guardian reached between their legs and started to finger themself open with Ether-slicked fingers. It was a damn show, was what this was, their hooded eyes unfocused as they worked themself open, little breaths whining in their throat, the twitch of battle-strengthened lean muscles.

They sure hadn’t seemed quite the type when they had Drifter pinned down and fucked him into his shitty little cot.

Not that he was complaining. Drifter loved a good show.

He could see the strength in their body as they slowly, deliberately fingered themself. Every scar caught the light different--one he recognized as a nasty cut from a shock blade, one was clearly twists of furious flame, and one… one was mottled pitch black, and looking at it seemed to almost make his own head hurt. In all his years he'd never seen a mark like that on anyone.

He felt Spider’s fingers lax on his wrist and tugged himself free.

Before Spider could catch him again, he reached forward and brushed his fingers over that scar. He hadn’t seen it in the shadow of his little back room, the other day. It felt cold. Felt like Dark. He knew Dark.

The Guardian paused, breathing heavy, eyes blinking open to watch him.

“What’s this from?” he asked, quiet.

“Oryx.”

“Oh.”

They almost laughed. “The mark of a god-slayer. We all got ‘em. Still hurts, you know.”

“Shit.”

Spider’s fingers ghosted over the mark, too. Drifter wondered if he felt the echoes in it, too. Wondered if touching it hurt the Guardian. They didn’t show it if it did.

Drifter let his hand move from the scar back to warm flesh. The Guardian watched him.

Drifter felt their stomach jump a little when he dragged his fingers down their torso. Their shoulders shuddered a little.

“Keep goin’, I ain’t stoppin’ you,” Drifter murmured. He danced his fingers over their hip.

They looked up a little. To Spider.

He looked to Spider, too, curious.

Spider nodded, and he looked back at the Guardian’s shuddering breath of relief as they went back to fingering themself open.

Drifter had nearly forgotten Spider’s hand still slowly stroking his cock until his finger brushed the base of him, the sensitive bundle there, and he jerked with a hiss. Spider rubbed his finger against it, sending sparks haywire through Drifter, coiling it low in his stomach.

“What do you want, Drifter?” Spider asked.

“Huh?”

Spider stilled his hand, and Drifter whined in protest. “What do you want?”

“Fuck. I don’t know.” He devoured the sight of the Guardian, shaking, movements slower as they listened. He wet his lips and licked over his teeth. “Guessin’ you wanna fuck ‘em, but shit, I’d give anything to go down on them.”

The Guardian swallowed. Their fingers went tense on his chest, pressing into the dark curls of hair.

“I don’t see why both isn’t possible,” Spider purred. He cupped the Guardian’s face and they leaned into his touch, jaw dropping for him to nudge his thumb into their mouth. “Is that amenable to you, my Light?”

Drifter furrowed his brow at that.

The Guardian hummed an affirmative around his thumb and blinked their eyes open. They flicked to Drifter and something much more smug lit on their face. They pressed their fingers deeper into themself and nibbled lightly at Spider’s thumb, grinding their hips into their hand.

Spider’s claws loosened on Drifter’s other wrist. He gave another few swift jerks before letting him go. Drifter wanted his chilly touch back, but the desire to bury his face between the Guardian’s thighs was quickly winning out. It might be hard to hear whatever sounds he so desperately wanted to drag out of them, but that was fine, too. He’d been dying to taste them.

Drifter sat up and reached a hand for the Guardian. They kissed him eagerly, returning their hand to his hair. He let his other hand fumble behind him until he heard Spider hiss.

“Drifter,” Spider growled.

Drifter gripped his length a little tighter and stroked him a few times. It easily soaked his fingers, just as he wanted.

“Guardian,” he murmured. “Can I?”

The Guardian withdrew to see him pull his hand from Spider. They licked their lips and hummed before sliding out their fingers with a little twist of their hip. They gave a nod.

Drifter grinned and moved fast, startling the Guardian. He spun them both to pin them back against Spider and latched back onto their lips--their Light tasted so good, it was addicting, it was so bright that it hurt. He shoved at their thighs until he felt Spider’s hands on them.

The Guardian’s shudder when he pressed two fingers in was something he’d relish.

He wasn’t terribly gentle, but the Guardian yanking at his hair and groaning into his mouth told him they were fine with that. He could feel how hot they were around his fingers as he spread them, added a third to earn a hiss and a sharp tug. “Yeah, hotshot?” he goaded in a whisper, nipping at their earlobe. “You like that?”

“Shut up,” they ground out. “Fuck.”

He curled his fingers and they pulled his face back in to muffle their sounds in his lips. They were as rough as he was, and he tasted copper. His lips stung when he pulled back for breath. He snickered, ignoring their lust-drunk, irritated glare. “I mention I like that? Gettin’ feisty?”

“Is that why you keep telling me you wanna fuck while I’m playing your stupid game?” they shot back, scraping their nails against his scalp. Ah, that was nice, too. “When I’m trying to concentrate and you’re just whispering to me about how fucking horny you always are?”

“You do a lot for me, gotta admit.”

“Too much,” they grumbled.

Drifter watched their hand slide up along Spider’s side to find his arm. Spider grasped their wrist and brought it to his face to scent them. The Guardian’s narrow-eyed expression turned smug again and they curled their fingers around Spider’s jaw.

Drifter tightened his teeth and thrust his fingers into them harder. They gasped out and gripped his hair tighter.

“Ah, ha, Spider,” they whispered, looking up, pleading in their eyes. Drifter could tell they were hyper aware of him, though.

Spider’s fingers trailed over their thighs. “Drifter,” he said.

Drifter grimaced at him, but obligingly freed his hand. The Guardian’s hips twitched. They looked eager, hungry, teeth digging into their spit-slick, kiss-swollen lips. Drifter would have to get payback for them biting him. They’d look good in red.

It took a little adjusting, but then Drifter was watching enraptured, hand idly stroking himself, as the Guardian sank down on Spider’s twitching length. Spider had two hands at their hips, another two running along their thighs--just what he did with Drifter to distract from the stretch.

And hell, wasn’t it a sight? Drifter couldn’t keep his eyes still, flicking from where Spider was pressed into the Guardian, to the Guardian’s blissed expression, to Spider’s half-lidded eyes. He didn’t think he’d see that sort of expression on the Guardian. He wondered if he could cause that, too. But it was just as good from this angle. He knew damn well how good it felt having the kingpin’s slick length buried deep inside.

He wondered if Spider’d locked them yet.

Drifter drew in closer to catch their mouth. They grabbed his face in both hands to hold him in place, shaking just a little and breathing fast. They kissed him eager, hungry, just on the irritated side of desperate.

Sharp claws met his scalp and he felt his back arch a little at the touch.

“Drifter,” Spider purred. “Why don’t you show them how much you appreciate what they’ve done for you?”

Drifter grinned into the Guardian’s mouth and kissed along their face, more teeth than lips. “Oh, gladly,” he said. He slowly worked his way down their throat, nipping and murmuring into their skin. “Every mote, every bullet, every kill. Means a little somethin’ different like this than when I’m over comms, huh? I can make good on every promise.”

“Stop talking,” they groaned. “I don’t care how nice your voice sounds, shut the fuck up.”

Drifter chuckled into their belly, slowly sliding down the throne, his calloused hands grasping their thighs as their hands knit into his hair. “You think my voice sounds nice?”

“Make it sound awful,” they snapped with a shudder. “Oh, fuck, Spider…”

Spider slid a hand up along their side to card through their hair. “Easy,” he murmured. “Don’t hurt yourself. I still need you.”

It was a purr and a threat all in one and it had the Guardian tightening their fingers.

Interesting, Drifter thought, sucking a bruise into their hip.

He could nearly feel Spider inside of them like this. When Spider’s moving length pressed against the front of them, Drifter could just feel the skin of their belly against his face. He could imagine it himself, and dug his fingers into their thighs so he wouldn’t reach for himself. Not yet.

He skipped past where they were slowly grinding down onto Spider’s bulb to nip at their thighs. They gasped in, twitching, and he did it again. Sensitive on the inside of their thighs, always nice, he liked that. Made oral that much more fun. He took his sweet time, but it didn’t take long before his patience was running a little thin.

“Spider,” he said into the Guardian’s skin. “You gonna lock ‘em or y’all don’t do that?”

“It’s at their pace,” Spider said.

“Fuck me, please, Spider,” the Guardian groaned.

Spider’s hips jerked, moving both of them.

Drifter decided to help out. He slowly worked his way closer to them, Spider’s Ether strong in his throat. He could feel the tension in their thighs and he rubbed little circles into them. “Hey, hotshot, easy,” he murmured. “Relax a little, we got you.”

Their fingers tightened in his hair, but they didn’t answer him. Instead they were focused on rolling their hips, trying their damnedest to stuff themself full. Drifter watched the ripples of their muscle from his position between their shaking thighs, and he was starving for their Light. He swallowed, but bided his time, trying to ease them, his fingers catching with Spider’s every so often.

With a sharp gasp followed by the most gorgeous moan he’d ever heard in all his years, the Guardian nearly doubled over shivering. Drifter had his eyes on the way Spider was buried so deep into them, the little bulge of their skin. Spider’s breath was rasping.

It was a hell of a thing, really, seeing it from this angle. He dragged his eyes up the Guardian’s body, devouring them, until he met Spider’s eyes. Spider was holding the Guardian still, as he did for Drifter, letting them adjust.

Finally Spider slid a hand over the Guardian’s shoulder, pressed lightly to the bruises Drifter left on their collarbone. “Lean back,” he said, quiet but firm.

The Guardian obliged, arching into Spider, head lolling against the plates of his chest. An even better angle for Drifter, as he watched Spider’s claws dance over their exposed throat.

Drifter felt his own fingers stutter at the sound he could hear from Spider.

“Are you-- Spider, you purring?”

Spider narrowed his eyes at Drifter. “I’ve purred when I’ve fucked you before,” he growled.

The Guardian focused their eyes a little, landing on Drifter. Slowly, they grinned at him, and he let sparks jolt into their thighs from his fingertips. They twitched, breath catching, before tugging at his hair again.

“Come on,” they panted. “Drifter. Stop staring at me.”

“Hard not to,” he said. They still had that smug little smile. He was absolutely aching, mouth watering, he could smell their Light and he wanted it. “Here, in Gambit, that mission at the Prison--”

“Drifter,” they groaned. “Fuck, please, shut up, get your mouth on me.” It came out more desperate than they probably hoped.

He allowed himself a laugh before he grasped their thighs tighter and surged forward to taste them.

He should’ve done this ages ago.

Claws joined the Guardian’s fingers in his hair. That was good, perfect. He used everything he had. When he felt like his lips and his tongue weren’t enough, he let Light drip from his mouth, lingering with the Guardian’s until they were whining and grinding uselessly against Spider’s bulb. Drifter pressed against their stomach, felt Spider shifting inside of them.

Then he got another idea.

The Guardian protested wordlessly as he lowered himself. Awkward angle, hurt his neck, but he managed.

Spider jerked, making the Guardian gasp, when Drifter lapped at his dripping pore.

“Drifter,” Spider warned.

“I can multitask,” Drifter said into him.

He felt the Guardian shift above him, but he was too busy to bother looking now, alternating between the two of them.

“Fuck, Drifter,” the Guardian breathed. “You… you really like things in your mouth.”

He laughed into them and sucked a little harder before pulling off back to Spider.

“You got an oral kink or something? S’nice having your mouth busy not saying stupid shit.”

“Mm, keep talkin’,” Drifter whispered.

Both of them pulled his hair and he dug his short nails into the Guardian’s hips. Fuck, he was light-headed with arousal and breathlessness. Ether and Light on his tongue made him dizzy, drove him crazy, and the more he tasted the hungrier he felt. He was ravenous even as he feasted.

The Guardian suddenly tensed and gasped out. “Spider, Spider, do that again, please, oh, fuck,” they begged. They moaned out, pitched up and needy, a moment later.

Drifter heard him growl something in Eliksni. He was a bit too occupied to mentally translate it exactly, but it was something damn possessive, real prideful. Arrogant bastard, Drifter thought, shoving his tongue into his pore.

He let a hand loosen from the Guardian to slip down to join his tongue. Spider twitched, a fresh rush of Ether-streaked slick dripping from his pore. Drifter started focusing on Spider more now, trying to urge him into coming into the Guardian.

He wanted to clean Spider’s mess up. Spider liked having other people clean up his messes.

The Guardian tugged at his hair, apparently trying to pull him back to them. He ignored them, even when it stung, even when they wordlessly growled.

He drew back his head a little bit to breathe and let them look at how he had three fingers in Spider. He felt their thigh tense under his other hand and winked up at them before going back down on Spider.

They loosened their grip on him, ran their shaking fingers through his hair in a way that might’ve been tender if they weren’t dragging their nails against his scalp and cursing at him. They must have realized his plan and were pretty all for it, he guessed, with the way they moved, trying to ride Spider a little more.

He could feel the way Spider tightened around his fingers that he was close.

“Spider,” the Guardian whispered. Drifter felt one of their hands leave his hair and looked up to see them reach for Spider’s face again. The hell kinda relationship did these two have? He curled his fingers against Spider’s walls, where he knew he was most sensitive, as the Guardian tightened their stomach.

Spider’s claws went tense.

Drifter grinned wide into Spider’s pore as the smell of Ether flooded the room. He heard the Guardian gasping, pleading, heard Spider hiss with a groan locked behind needle-sharp teeth. Drifter stroked inside of him as Spider came around him, in the Guardian, spilling over his hand.

If he spent this entire day having thighs around his head he’d be more than happy with that.

He looked up to see Spider pinning the Guardian to his chest, twitching hands roving over their scars and marks, still gripping their hand to his face and his teeth scraping their wrist. The Guardian had a look Drifter had felt on his own face plenty of times, dizzy and drunk on so much come. Looked real good on them.

He felt them twitch as he licked at them again, light and almost teasing.

Spider still looked hungry when he came down.

Drifter slid his fingers from him and nipped at the Guardian’s thighs absently. “You look real good like this, hotshot,” he purred. “That’s somethin’ I can easily get used to seein’.”

The Guardian laughed breathlessly and carded their fingers roughly through his hair. “You talk this way to every Guardian who comes through Gambit, or am I special?”

“Take your pick,” he said with a grin. “Ain’t every day a Guardian builds such a pretty gun with me, yeah? Every time you come through Gambit, I think it drives me nuts.” He chuckled. “You can ask Spider.”

Spider trailed his claws over their jaw. “He does mention you often enough,” Spider agreed. “He’s lucky that I’m willing to share my Guardian.”

“See, what was I sayin’ earlier, huh? Give and take. All sharin’ with each other.”

“What, think you own me, Drifter?” The Guardian laughed and leaned into Spider. “Not what you were sayin’ when I had you pressed up into your cot at the Tower.”

“That what you think?”

They dragged at his hair and he couldn’t stop his hiss and the jerk of his hips into nothing. “S’what I know,” they said.

Spider tapped the Guardian. “I would recommend moving,” he warned, though there wasn’t much of a growl to it.

The Guardian pushed at Drifter, and he reluctantly sat up. He wiped his mouth with his wrist and helped tug the Guardian off Spider. “Fuck,” they hissed with a shiver, thighs tensing as Spider’s come dripped out of them.

Drifter, impulsively, slid his hand up their thigh to run his fingers over their entrance. He watched them a second until they shot him a look and scraped at his hair before pushing his fingers into them.

It was like they were relieved to have Drifter stuffing Spider’s come back into them. He understood, though, for sure. He fingered them slower than earlier, minding what must have been sore muscles, as they leaned into Spider with a low, pleased moan. Spider’s hands roved over them.

“Hey, Guardian, got an idea,” Drifter murmured after a little bit. “Brought somethin’ for myself, but I think you’ll enjoy it more. Got the feeling Spider’ll be into it, too.”

“Oh, boy,” the Guardian replied, arching into Spider’s hands on their chest. Somewhere between anticipating and sarcastic.

He could see Spider’s face light up with interest. Spider knew what he was thinking already.

He held out his hand and let it transmat.

The Guardian shuddered at the simple plug. He saw their throat bob with a dry swallow, Spider’s fingers running over the movement. “Oh.”

“See, I get great ideas.”

The Guardian ground their hips into his fingers a little more. “Sometimes,” they allowed. They breathed in and looked at Spider. “Can I?” It was a whisper, a plea.

Like Spider owned them. Drifter could tell the very thought of him controlling the most powerful Guardian in the universe was really getting Spider’s rocks off. The kingpin purred, half-growl. “Yes. I’d like nothing more.”

Hell, the Guardian seemed more than happy letting Spider hold their hypothetical leash. Maybe because of all their strength and victories, letting this morally dubious Eliksni boss them around was something that got them off.

Then again, he thought as he kissed them, they’d been more than eager to fuck him senseless. They’d fought through the Ascendant Realm to find Callum for him. They came back to Gambit week after week, let him drip compliments and promises and offers into their comms and then calmly eye-fuck him as they waited for him to finish business with other Guardians at the Tower.

Maybe the City’s big tough hero was a little more gray than people thought.

Their Light was still so damn bright. He swallowed the smoke on their tongue, felt sparks from their fingers as he shifted his hands between their legs, smelled the cold metal of deep space on their breath as he slid the plug in. It made static tingle in his limbs, sharpen every sense, bit into his own Light, sensing the shadows he touched.

Whatever reason the Guardian had for wanting to sleep with him and with Spider, Drifter didn’t think he’d ever figure it out. Didn’t know if he much cared, when he was settling the plug into them to keep Spider’s come stuck inside them, when he was scraping his teeth over their throat and Spider was sliding a hand over his ass.

‘Cause if he could get the hero of humanity moaning like this, grasping at him and cursing, press his Light right up against theirs… he sure wouldn’t complain.

He’d already thought he was a damn lucky man when he first hooked up with the Spider. And now he had a god-killer wedged between himself and the most notorious Eliksni kingpin this side of the Traveler, his throat rough and his tongue still tasting of them both.

“That’s it, hero,” he cooed, rubbing at them, just light enough to get them baring their teeth at him. “Lookin’ good. Mhm, Spider, you picked a good one, didn’tcha?”

“Of course I did,” Spider said, prideful, smug. The Guardian eased under his claws. “I know a good opportunity when I see it.”

“Gotta thank you for lettin’ me in on this.”

Spider scoffed. Drifter could imagine him rolling his eyes if he could. “I’m pretty sure both of you said that they all but fucked you senseless. You should be thanking them.”

“I’ll do it again, too,” the Guardian growled, grabbing at Drifter’s thigh.

“Easy,” Spider said, and the Guardian went almost soft immediately. “I think I want my turn with him now.”

“Selfish today?” Drifter asked him, brushing his fingers against the Guardian again.

“Generous,” he corrected with a hungry grin.

Drifter felt the Guardian run a hand down his back, catching on the half-healed scratches from Spider’s sharp claws. “Fair ‘nough. Think you can let ‘em warm me up for you, though? Been thinkin’ about those clever fingers for ages. You know how wild it gets me seein’ on that gun?”

“You’ve said,” the Guardian told him. “Is it me, or the gun?”

“Ah, come on now,” he said, pressing in close to the Guardian, eager to get as much skin touching as possible. “You can’t possibly know that.”

“Drifter, if you don’t have a weapons kink, I’ll eat a worm.”

Drifter chuckled. “Lucky for you, then. And, uh, I don’t recommend it. The worm thing.”

“Ew. The fuck’s wrong with you, man?”

He laughed louder and reached past them to dance his fingers over Spider’s chest, the hard edges of his exoskeleton’s plates and the softer flesh between. “Still. If Spider’ll let you, I think I’d kill for your fingers in me.”

“You’d kill someone for a single flaming hot Cheeto,” the Guardian grumbled. They angled their head back to look at Spider. “Can I, Spider?”

It was almost strange, the different tone they used when speaking to Spider.

“Oh, of course. But I’ve got another idea, as well.” Spider eyed Drifter.

Drifter grinned eagerly. “You get some real good ideas.”

He shook his head. “It was your idea, but now I don’t feel like putting it to choice. Not after your little stunt.”

Drifter blinked at him in confusion until Spider took his wrists in two of his hands. “Ohhh. Ha!” He laughed and wiggled his fingers at him. “Still mad about that, huh?”

“Guardian,” Spider said, switching to a purr that had the Guardian’s eyes attentive and their lips dampened with anticipation. “Be good and find his headband for me, will you? Or a belt, or something.”

The Guardian squirmed out from under Drifter and made a beeline for the pile of his and Spider’s armor. He watched every curve of their body, devoured every angle, and heard Spider’s low rumble. He flicked his eyes back to Spider, who was damn near smirking, knowing, absolutely full of himself and daring Drifter to do something.

Drifter had no idea who was really leading this anymore.

Hell, he didn’t care, either.

The Guardian sidled up behind him, all Solar heat now, and waggled one of his discarded belts in front of him. Drifter arched back into them, letting their Light burn into his back and trying to press his ass into their hips. They swayed, pressing a hand to his shoulder for balance, lazily grinding against him but not really giving him much more than a tease.

Spider held his arms still and the Guardian reached over Drifter to wrap the worn leather around his wrists. Drifter bit his lip, watching their deft fingers and feeling heat pulse in his stomach. He wouldn’t call himself needy, but agonizingly turned on was a pretty apt description.

He shuddered a little when the Guardian tightened the belt around his arms. “Little more,” he said, rough, low. “Ah, shit, yep, that’s good.”

“Sure?” the Guardian asked.

“Fuck yes,” he breathed, testing the give. He could break it, he knew that, but he liked this belt. And liked the idea of getting worked open with those fingers he’d seen choke Psions to death, that drew that jagged cannon they’d built. Liked the thought of the Guardian flicking their Light deep into him before he’d sink down on the slick, twitching length he could see when he looked down.

And he liked the thought of the Guardian watching him get fucked and locked by Spider. They had some weird possessive sorta thing. What would Spider’s destructive pet feel watching him get stuffed full as they were right now?

Spider wrapped his claws around the belt and gave a tug. Drifter flexed his fingers, watching him closely. “Wrapped so nicely in my web,” Spider purred, tugging him closer. Drifter moved with him easily. The Guardian followed. They ran their hands over him, dancing over his own centuries of scars, nipping at his shoulders.

“I can play fly for you, Spider,” Drifter said, now at a great angle to get his mouth on Spider’s chest. He let his breath flow hot over the spaces between, knowing the spice of his Light made him shiver. “Won’t even bite back. I can be good.”

“No, you can’t,” Spider said, scraping his claws down his back.

“I can pretend.”

Spider chuckled. Drifter couldn’t see what was going on behind him, but he felt Spider’s hands moving, the two that weren’t on him. The Guardian shifted as well, the heat of their Light changing as they did. Sparks jolted into him as they dragged their fingers over him. One hand vanished.

Spider shifted, twitched. He slid his hand down to Drifter’s ass, squeezed him and pulled him closer. His teeth scraped at Drifter’s wrist.

Drifter got the hint and slowly rolled his hips as he licked and nipped at Spider’s plates. It wasn’t nearly enough to get him off, but any friction felt nice.

The Guardian lifted their head to bite at his earlobe. “Question for you,” they asked, voice breathy. “Where d’you want it?”

“Oh, surprise me,” he answered with a little shiver. “I’d flip for it, but I’m a little… tied up at the moment.”

The Guardian groaned. “Don’t, don’t fucking make puns when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“I’ll make all the fucking puns I want.”

“I’m gonna stab you,” they grumbled.

Drifter’s laugh was nearly a giggle.

“Spider,” they begged.

Spider shook his head. “Stop annoying my Guardian,” he growled without any threat.

“Oh, but it’s fun,” he said with a grin. “Why do you think I like teasin’ you, too?”

Spider brought a hand to his mouth. Lower one, with the clipped claws. “Quiet.”

Drifter eagerly started mouthing at his hand. He wiggled his hips at the Guardian and shifted his knees apart a little more.

Their fingers were slick and sparking when they reached between his thighs.

He paused, and the other two, did, too, waiting.

He took a breath to steady himself. He pulled his Light in closer, nudged the shadows that lived nestled in the glow, flexed his fingers a little. “You’re fine, Guardian,” he said, a little softer, more serious. “Sorry.”

The Guardian’s fingers were a little more gentle as they circled him, Spider’s slick combining with his own. “You sure? Whichever one you want. It’s your body, Drifter. No matter how irritating you can be, I’m not gonna do shit you don’t want. Spider wouldn’t either, I know that, too.”

“Yeah, s’fine. I think I want that, yeah, there. Um… just kinda… easy does it?” He chuckled a little nervously. Damn him, he wanted to be stuffed full, why’d he have to get weird about it now? Dumbass brain.

The Guardian carefully pressed a finger against him. He guessed they were gauging his reactions carefully. He kept still.

Spider’s hand beside his face came in closer to brush his jaw. The Guardian’s other hand slid up to card through his hair.

Okay, now it was weird. He shifted a little, not sure if the strange tenderness was uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure it was unwelcome.

“C’mon,” he said, and grimaced at how it came out. He meant to sound impatient.

The Guardian hummed a little and pressed their finger into him, real slow. He bit his lip, brow coming together. He’d almost prefer if they went back to being rough with him.

The lips at his shoulder, without teeth, startled him. They breathed cool and electric over the back of his neck, pressing their finger deeper. Were they taller than him? Had he noticed that? Maybe not.

Spider was idle on him, more trying to distract him, it seemed. Drifter could feel his chest rumble underneath his.

A spark jolted deep into him and he jumped.

“You good?” the Guardian asked.

“Yeah,” he managed. “Yeah ‘m fine. Didn’t expect that.”

They chuckled a little and pulled their finger out to thrust back into him, a little faster.

One of Spider’s hands brushed over his stomach, and he breathed out, eyes closing, as Spider wrapped his fingers around his cock. All those hands. So useful. It was real good, Spider’s cool, almost rough skin against him, where he knew Drifter liked, stark from the Guardian’s arc on him, in him.

“Come on, hotshot,” Drifter finally burst out after what felt like hours but was probably less than a minute. “I know you can do more. I ain’t made a’ porcelain. Don’t reckon that’s enough to get me open enough for Spider. And you don’t wanna disappoint.”

Their little pets into his hair became a drag and two fingers slid into him. He grinned in victory as they pushed in deeper. Now that was what he wanted. That was good.

“Arrogant bastard,” Spider murmured, squeezing him and drawing out a low groan. Drifter didn’t know if he should thrust into Spider’s hand or push back into the Guardian’s fingers. “I’m sure we could keep you here for hours if we wanted to.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me. I’m a wicked man, y’know, can’t--fuck--can’t say no to such sweet promises.”

“Spider,” the Guardian said, voice low, almost too gentle. “Can we make sure Gambit gets cancelled tomorrow?”

Drifter flicked his eyes up to see Spider grinning. He felt a little shiver.

“Don’t want me in your comms again?” Drifter asked over his shoulder.

“Maybe I wanted to spend the day somewhere else,” the Guardian said.

“Like here?”

The Guardian answered with a pulse of arc Light deep into him. He gasped out. “Fuck, shit, do that again.”

He let himself moan this time. Every spark settled in his gut, a tightening coil.

Spider tugged his arms a little closer to his face to scrape his teeth at his wrist, scenting him. It was always such an intimate thing, Spider’s rows of needle-sharp teeth against his skin, the way his mandibles parted, the roughness of his hungry purr when he breathed in Drifter’s shadowy Light.

“Guardian,” he said. “More. Gimme another.”

The Guardian hummed and curled their fingers deep into him. He shuddered.

“I can take another, three fingers, c’mon--”

“I know,” they said into a scar on his shoulder. “But that isn’t how we ask.”

“Fuckin’ hell, I’d shoot you,” he breathed.

“Well, if that’s how you want to be--”

“Please,” he exclaimed. “Please, fuck.”

“Better,” they purred, and he groaned in sweet relief at the stretch.

Another arc pulse had him cursing, tears pricking at his eyes. It kind of hurt, but damn if it wasn’t welcome. He shivered as the Guardian picked up their pace, moving their sparking fingers in ways that had his hands twitching and his hips aching with the way he was being held still.

He felt their mouth at his ear and choked a little. “Wonder if I can make you scream the way I can when I kill enough Guardians while you’re watching me?”

Drifter pressed his forehead to Spider’s chest. “You’ll have to try harder,” he managed to say.

“Mm, so my fingers in you isn’t as good as on my gun? What do I have to do to get you screaming and begging, Drifter?”

He shifted his hips back into their hand. “Is that what you want, Guardian?”

“Some other time, perhaps,” Spider growled. “I have a better use for his mouth.”

Drifter breathed against his chest, arms shaking too hard to focus on kissing or biting at him. “I’m all ears, Spider,” he said.

“My dear Guardian hasn’t finished yet,” he said. “You ought to help them with that.”

“Oh, absolutely-- oh, fuck, when you’re fuckin’ me?” Drifter groaned into his chest. “Yeah, yeah. Into it. Ah, ha, do that again, Guardian, yeah, that’s it, that’s real good. How do we do that?”

Spider let his hands rove a little aimlessly, the two that weren’t on his dick or pinning his arms. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll tell you.”

“Fuck, anytime,” he said. He’d miss the Guardian’s fingers, but he was so ready for Spider’s lock in him. Wanted to taste the Guardian again, too.

Spider’s hand moved off his cock, and he grimaced. He shuddered as the Guardian slid their fingers out of him. He could feel his own hot slick on the inside of his thighs and tightened his stomach a little.

Spider tugged at him, pulling him more flush with a hand on his back. He twisted to look over his shoulder as another of Spider’s hands reached for the Guardian. His claws trailed along their jaw. “They can take my seat,” Spider said.

Drifter snapped his attention back to Spider. “Lettin’ them sit on your throne?”

“While you,” Spider said, his fingers running down Drifter’s spine to grab at his ass, “go down on them… and I fill you.”

“You have really, really good ideas,” Drifter said, licking his lips eagerly.

They had the Guardian move to perch on the arm of the throne. They rubbed at themselves a little bit, just enough to keep them on edge, as Spider hauled Drifter to the floor.

The Guardian slowly moved to sit on the throne itself. It was definitely too large for them, but they splayed out on it, thighs beautifully parted, eyes dark with arousal, lips parted just a little.

Spider’s claws dug into Drifter.

“You’re really into that,” he chuckled. “Seein’ the most legendary Guardian on your throne, huh? Takin’ your spot, keepin’ it warm? Getting off on it?”

Spider freed his arms, letting the belt fall to the ground with a clatter, and he eagerly moved to kneel on the foot of the throne. He grabbed for the Guardian, already eyeing them. It was a good angle for Spider, too, with his height.

The Guardian leaned back, watching them as Drifter ran his fingers up their thigh. They were braced to push in closer once Drifter and Spider were settled.

The cool touch of Spider’s slick length made Drifter shudder. He felt his eyes flutter and a hungry moan hum in his throat. Delightfully familiar, but different every time, the unpredictable twitches of his length sliding into him on its own.

“Fuck,” he heard, more of a breath than anything. He opened his eyes to see the Guardian watching with cheeks flushed, eyes dark and roving. They met his gaze after a second and reached a hand forward back into his hair. “You… you look really, really good,” they whispered.

Drifter shuddered as Spider’s bulb nudged up against him.

“Perhaps later,” Spider purred, the sound reverberating into Drifter as he leaned forward over him, “I can see for myself how he looks from that angle.”

The Guardian grinned slowly at that, a starving calculation in their eyes. “Of course, Spider,” they said, petting into Drifter’s hair. Oh, the way they were so casually splayed out on Spider’s throne, all the loftiness of some beloved pet. “Anything you want.”

Drifter gasped out as Spider ground his bulb against him.

Spider might have a leash on the Guardian, but damn if the Guardian didn’t hand it over themself. Spider’s control wasn’t earned, hell no--the Guardian was the one in charge of it all. A god acting as a plaything, a guard dog, pretending Spider had a chain on ‘em. It wasn’t even some submissive thing. Spider was entirely wrapped around the Guardian’s finger and maybe he didn’t even realize it.

When the Guardian’s fingers on him went chilly, leaving tingling trails over his skin, he thought maybe he was too.

When he tugged them closer and breathed in the scent of their Light, the deep rich smell of ancient forests and rusting metal and the cold of space, he didn’t really think he cared much, either.

The first lap of his tongue on the Guardian drew a low moan. He pressed closer into them as Spider slowly fucked into him, not working in his bulb just yet, taking it real easy. Drifter fumbled at the plug, urging the Guardian to sit back a little so he could tug it out.

They shuddered when he did.

As he dove forward, he let shadows meet void, and the Guardian twisted their hips into his face.

Sure, maybe he was walking on an edge with the Guardian. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t take them with him. If they were so eager to let him bury his tongue in them, to let curses and praises drip from their mouth at his touch, let him press right up into their Light with everything he kept in his chest…

He’d worry about what that meant later.

Spider’s claws pricked into his hips, his ribs, his thigh. So many hands, he thought deliriously, pressing back into him, knees spread as much as possible. He’d never get used to how good it was getting fucked by an Eliksni, and Spider was damn good at this, every twist of his length purposeful.

“Spider,” the Guardian said. They were breathless. Close. “I… I wanna see you lock him.”

Drifter groaned into their thigh, pleading.

He couldn’t translate whatever Spider replied with.

A pressure, jolt of pain--and then Drifter dug his nails into the Guardian’s hips hard enough he thought he might leave bruises as he struggled to breathe.

Their hands were almost too gentle in his hair, catching the sweaty strands at his temples and pushing it back from his face. Spider’s claws had gone softer, still dragging, shaking a little bit.

They were all still for a few seconds. There wasn’t a cue for it, though, when Drifter pulled at the Guardian, desperate to get his mouth on them again, when they jerked their hips into his face, when Spider let a hand move under Drifter to get at his dick.

Drifter didn’t know if he believed in an afterlife. If there was, he sure wouldn’t be going someplace better. This was as close to heaven as he’d ever get.

He tightened his stomach on Spider’s lock in him, his legs starting to shake. He wasn’t sure if he was close yet, but he still wanted, needed, something desperate in his gut as he pressed a finger to the Guardian’s entrance.

“Guardian,” he gasped out, “suppress me.”

“Huh?”

“Void. Fuckin’... I don’t care how you do it.”

The Guardian stared blankly at him for a few seconds before inhaling sharp. They slid their hand down to his shoulders, then over his throat.

He felt void pulse into his skin.

His vision went fuzzy, his fingertips numb, a dizziness in his head like he’d been submerged underwater too long. While the rest of him was unraveling, every place the Guardian or Spider touched was sharp, intense, perfect. There was a blanket on his Light, and the shadows reveled in the void.

Every bite of their Light hurt.

Spider’s finger brushed against the base of his cock.

It was so much and not enough.

He devoured the Guardian, every trick he knew, until their Light was flickering and they were gasping, hips grinding into him.

Drifter felt their Light kaleidoscope into him from their grasping hand as they went rigid.

He let the burst move through him, amped it up with his own Light, and Spider pressed hard into him, growling, purring, leaning over him with possessive touches over him.

Drifter gasped into the Guardian’s shaking thigh as Spider filled him.

The writhe of his length in him, coiling and rubbing every nerve, the pulsing of his bulb emptying the rest of his come into him, cool and thick--he couldn’t think, just so damn full, nearly uncomfortable with it, a pressure in his stomach.

Spider pressed another hand to his stomach, and Drifter could feel the way his own skin was a bit taut with the fullness.

The Guardian, breathing heavy, a little limp from their orgasm, pet through his hair again. “Drifter,” they murmured. “Drifter, that’s it. Come for us.”

Spider was purring so smug, prideful, possessive, flush against him.

Drifter clenched his jaw so tight it hurt, eyes burning at the edges with the blinding need.

Two hands knit into his hair, one clawed, one tingling with Light, and he snapped.

He couldn’t feel a damn thing with the static ecstasy.

When he started to regain his senses, he realized he hadn’t come that hard in… maybe ever, actually.

Spider shifted his hips, and Drifter shuddered at the last lazy pulses of come and the caressing of his length. Slowly, the kingpin pulled back. Spent already? Drifter could feel the come dripping down his thighs, but he couldn’t move yet.

“You okay?” the Guardian asked.

He laughed into their skin. “Yeah, need a sec,” he said, voice rough. “Damn, Spider, I always forget how much you come.”

Spider’s claws were brushing over his feverish skin, blissfully cool. “Maybe you need more frequent reminders.”

“Mm. I won’t argue with that.”

The Guardian chuckled.

Slowly, Drifter braced his elbows on the throne and pushed himself upright. Oh, but the Guardian looked real good in that afterglow. He took a second to admire the view. It took the edge off the ache in his hips.

The Guardian raised an eyebrow at him. “What?” they asked.

“Nothin’. You just look real pleased.”

They scoffed and shook their head. “Well, can you blame me?”

He laughed and carefully straightened a little more, letting Spider help him, leaning into him. “Pretty as a picture, you know that? I could get real used to this.”

He watched their eyes drag over how he let himself drape into Spider’s arms. “For once, I can agree with you.”

“How ‘bout you, Spider?” Drifter asked, angling his head with a crooked grin.

“You’re ridiculous,” Spider scoffed.

“Ah, that’s code for ‘that was really fuckin’ fantastic and we should absolutely do that again when any of us are capable of functioning again’,” Drifter said.

“So I take it Gambit’s cancelled tomorrow?” the Guardian joked.

Drifter reached a hand forward and pulled them in close with his hand hooked ‘round the back of their neck to kiss them slow, deep, Spider helping him stay balanced. It was chaste, but he let shadow melt into it, just a little. “I’d say so,” he said into their mouth. “But you’re gonna owe me double next time, you know.”

“Oh, yeah?” they replied. “How about I just make sure I get you warmed up and then drag out the game as long as I can?”

“Actually, that’s tempting.” He drew back and wiggled into Spider a little more. “Hell, maybe I can link you the feed, Spider,” he said. “You seen ‘em in Gambit yet? Absolute beast. Show you what a damn good Guardian you’ve picked out as yours.”

“I wouldn’t turn it down,” Spider purred.

The Guardian reached past Drifter to Spider’s face. “See,” they said, “we can help each other more than we all thought. Here’s an idea. Maybe if there’s anyone Spider doesn’t like, we can… introduce them to Gambit.”

“Ooh, now you’re talkin’,” Drifter said with an eager grin. “You keep talkin’ like that and I’m gonna get all worked up again, and I don’t think my hips are gonna be too happy about that.”

Spider chittered, brushing a hand over his waist. “Are you never satisfied?”

“I’m a selfish old man, what can I say?”

“You really are,” the Guardian agreed.

“Well, it’s rude when you say it.”

“Good.”

“Spider, can you believe this?”

“They aren’t wrong.”

“I’m offended.”

“Good,” both of them said.

Drifter took a second to really finish catching his breath. His knees hurt, and so did his hips. “Ow,” he grumbled, shifting. “Can I sit? Before I fall over or something?”

It took a good minute of settling, the two Lightbearers hissing at twinges and snickering at each other before Spider was back in his seat, though no one was in a rush to put armor back on. It wasn’t cuddling, but it was something like it. A nice warm tangle of limb basking in afterglow.

Drifter hummed after a second and shifted Spider's hand further around his waist before searching his inventory and transmatting a couple drinks.

“You are not,” the Guardian said.

Drifter chuckled and waved the bottle at them. “Well, doubt we can move for a hot minute here without fallin’ over, I’m in a good mood, we’re all friends here. What’s wrong with a drink? I might have a fuckin’, uh… cola or something in here somewhere, maybe, if you ain’t the drinkin’ type?”

The Guardian shook their head and took a bottle from him. “You are something else, Drifter, gotta be honest.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” he replied, and offered one to Spider. “Nice to stick around a while for once, y’know? Always feel bad leavin’ too soon.”

“Aw, you feelin’ soft?” The Guardian said, not quite mocking.

“Now, I might be a crazy old bastard, but I ain’t heartless!” He chuckled and tugged off the cap with a knife that he flipped back into inventory. “And hey. Good company.”

Spider shook his head, but accepted the offered drink. “I suppose business can wait,” he said.

“Ah, see, this is it. Little peaceful moments, right?”

“It’s not peaceful, you won’t shut up,” the Guardian grumbled, flicking him in the knee.

He laughed and lifted his drink.

Maybe he was feeling soft. Maybe he was just crazy. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe it didn’t even matter.

He was too tired to stay so hard-edged and guarded. Maybe he couldn’t be vulnerable, but he could at least take some time to relax a little bit.

Hell, maybe he needed to sit down, shut up, and just touch someone else so casually like this.

Drifter leaned back into Spider with a pleased hum into his drink. “All we need is to be at the beach or somethin’ like that,” he said, waving a hand for flair. “Imagine it.”

“Need a vacation?” Spider asked with a chitter.

“I’d say we all deserve one after the past couple years,” he said dryly. His eyes lingered on that black scar on the Guardian’s flesh. “Doubt anything will let us, though.”

“Hey, couple hours is good enough,” the Guardian said. The way they settled in Spider’s arms was definitely preening, even if they didn’t seem to notice it. Spider possessive, the Guardian showing themself off.

“Rest for the wicked?” Drifter said with a wry grin.

The Guardian shook their head. “More or less, I suppose.”

“Ha.” He gestured with the drink. “You start lookin’ past black and white, and things get way more colorful. We can both show you that, hotshot.”

They worried the lip of their bottle a few moments before taking a long swig. “Never a dull moment with either of you, is it? What the hell, though, right? I’m already here.”

“And you keep coming back,” Spider said with a purr.

Drifter felt the look in the Guardian’s eyes echoed in himself.

What it meant was probably beyond any of them.

Oh, well.

He took a swig of his drink and shoved every worry aside for just a while longer. Let him see the colors, too, the blurred edges and topsy-turvy feelings.

Let him live a little, for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Come stop by my tumblr @lesbianeliksni


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